


lonely boy-o

by bipolar_chris



Series: trauma~ [1]
Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anxiety, Cameras, Dissociation, Gen, Hallucinations, Paranoia, Self-Harm, Surveillance, Yagami Light is Kira, Yagami Souichirou's A+ Parenting, author is anxious and has hallucinations, author is writing out his exact experiences, author lives in america and hates the police, innocent Light, with slights mods for this universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipolar_chris/pseuds/bipolar_chris
Summary: Light often found himself alone and frightened. What is there to do but remedy that?Light does not have a Death Note, but he DOES have anxiety and hallucinations.
Relationships: L & Yagami Light, Yagami Light & Yagami Souichirou
Series: trauma~ [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822657
Comments: 3
Kudos: 161





	lonely boy-o

**Author's Note:**

> alright boys so heres the sitch. im basically just projecting my actual experiences and ailments onto my main man Light, so im gonna be pretty rough on him. y'all should be grateful i didn't include the time my dad literally kicked down the door to my room at 6AM bc i locked it and then proceeded to rip me out of my 6ft tall loft bed. anywho, light isn't kira in this story, the events of death note are happening, but light has no connection to kira. he invented ryuk out of loneliness and fear of being alone and ryuk became a part of his coping.

Light had absolutely no friends. A harsh statement, maybe, but very true. Sure, he talked to people at school, but he always seemed distant, so no one ever tried reaching out. Sayu didn’t count, she  _ had _ to put up with him. Besides, there are only so many things one can tell their sibling about. 

He was lonely, not to mention anxious.

It was to be expected considering the circumstances. That didn’t make it hurt any less. It didn’t make it any less boring. Less frightening. Having no one to talk to, at age 14, Light began to talk to himself. He didn’t ‘hear voices’, no, he was merely speaking for the sake of speaking. Projecting his stream of consciousness to the open space. It was better than the horrifying silence. And it  _ did _ help for a while. His thoughts became a bit more manageable. 

But all too soon, it became as boring and monotonous as it was before. Speaking into the air didn’t offer the same intellectual stimulation as a true conversation. It didn’t make him feel any safer, any less alone. What else was there to do than interact with himself? Well, two parts of himself. Thinking for one part of the conversation and speaking for the other half. Envisioning a person, creating their backstory, creating their words with his thoughts. It was...comforting to always have a friend with him. Eventually, the boy stopped having to focus to talk to this friend. His name was Ryuk, a Shinigami. Light, logically, knew that Ryuk wasn’t real. He kept up the delusions. It was easier than the truth.

\-----

L stared intently at the screen in front of him. He paid no mind to the chief glaring daggers into the side of his head. Cameras had been installed in the Yagami house, and Light had only just gotten home. The teen silently opened the door. He crept through the house, steps almost inaudible, checking each room, closet, window. It was like it was second nature-- there was a practiced familiarity to it. Even so, the boy seemed unreasonably tense. After every room was thoroughly checked, Light made his way to his bedroom, stopping at the door and frowning. “Ryuk,” he whispered hoarsely; L scooted forward in his seat.  _ Who is Ryuk? _ “Someone’s been in my room.” He paused, as if listening to another person. “I don’t know.” Another pause. “The lead in the crack of the door. It’s broken. And I leave my door handle higher than this.” Light reached into his backpack, pulling out a pocket knife. He opened the door, the knife glinting dangerously in his shaking hand. L watched as he did a full sweep of the room, only relaxing after three meticulous searches. Dropping his schoolbag, he flopped down onto his bed. “God, I hope not.”

L was deep in thought. Who was Light talking to? Why did he have such precautions on his door? The likelihood of Light being Kira was only rising the more he saw. He continued watching.

“This isn’t funny. What if someone put cameras in my room?  _ God _ , someone was in here. Ryuk, I need you to tell me that I’m being dumb and paranoid.” He laughed. “Right. It was probably just Sayu being nosy again.”  _ Ten percent. _

…

“Well-- and I’m not saying there are-- but  _ if _ there were cameras in here, then we’d be... kinda fucked. So stop stressing me out.”  _ Twenty percent _ .

…

“Ugh, listen, idiot. No one’s gonna find out.”  _ Thirty-five percent. _

… 

“Obviously, I’ll go on the lam.” he said with a chuckle. This gave L pause. What was Light talking about?  _ Just what are you hiding, Kira? _ He bit his thumb in thought. “Nope! You’d have to come with me! So it would serve you well to not be so obnoxious in public. You know I can’t have anyone know about this, or you’d be in danger, too.”

The rest of the day went much the same, Light occasionally turning and talking to seemingly nothing; looking around nervously and jumping at any creaks. This only served to confuse the men watching him. He paced around, never leaving his room. The routine only seemed to break when Light pulled a glass bottle out of his bookbag, taking it to the kitchen and wrapping it in a dish towel on the floor. He pulled out his phone and began playing music, visibly relaxing at the sound. With a deep breath, the boy stomped down on the glass, repeating the action until it was shattered beyond repair. It was lucky he still had shoes on. He kneeled down and picked through the shards for the bigger pieces. The rest was thrown in the trash, still wrapped up in the towel. Light carried the salvaged fragments back to his room, stashing them away in the false bottom of a drawer. 

Soon enough, Sayu arrived home with Sachiko, but Light stayed in his room, hyper-vigilant of every sound emitting from the house, even as he studied. With the new occupants home, he didn’t speak to this  _ Ryuk _ nearly as much, the few moments he did were quiet and cautious. 

“Ryuzaki,” Soichiro interrupted, “I apologize, but I really must get home for dinner.”

“Very well. I will keep watch until you return.” 

\---

Light was feeling anxious-- well, more anxious than usual. Someone had been inside his room. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, his skin crawled at the thought of someone in his safe haven. It certainly didn’t help that his family wouldn’t just  _ shut the hell up _ , the constant noise was absolutely infuriating. 

“Light! Dinner’s ready!” Sachiko called from the kitchen.

He steeled himself, feeling for the knife in his pocket. It was his only security. Making his way into the dining room, Light was shocked to see his father sat at the table. Soichiro had work today, why was he home so early. Dread pooled in the teen’s stomach. Was he in trouble? Every misdeed he had ever done ran through his mind. 

He pushed these thoughts down, sparing a glance towards Ryuk before sitting at the table, the uncomfortable itch of open space behind him where anyone could attack from returning as usual. He rubbed the knife in his pocket and calmed the slightest bit as Ryuk rambled on about apples. It was the good kind of background noise, the comfortable acknowledgment that he had a friend there. Light was so focused on the shinigami that he hardly noticed his father’s angry ranting about a case he was working on. 

“--it’s absolutely sick what he’s doing. With a name like ‘Kira’, how can people still support him?” 

The taste of anger; a sparking, metallic thing. It flooded Light’s mouth and throat, bubbling out dangerously. “Kira’s supporters, they’re mostly victims. It is common for people to process emotional distress with anger and spite. You shouldn’t shame them for it. That will only result in more anger.” It was a regrettable thing to say to his tough-as-nails police chief father, but once the words had started, they were impossible to stop, the boy’s bottled-up rage only grew. 

“He’s a murderer! Killing is killing, no matter the circumstances!”

“I’m not saying it’s morally correct, but you can’t fault people for wanting to punish those who have hurt them. And if murder is murder, then what of the death penalty? It seems like exactly what Kira is doing, just with more steps.” It was becoming harder to keep his composure, but Light had to. He was an angry crier, though he would vehemently deny it if asked. He could already feel the painful lump in his throat, the burning heat flowing through him.

“That isn’t true! Kira is playing judge, jury, and executioner! Our law is just. His is corrupt.”

A dark laugh ripped itself from the teen’s chest, “You’d be blind to think that the world’s law is entirely just. Look at any country, you’ll see their systems are majorly built on oppression, created to only benefit the people already in power. Kira may not be right, but your willful ignorance to the corruption in your own system often undermines any semblance of justice.”

“Light--” Sachiko tried to mediate before things got out of hand, but Soichiro was fuming.

“You would support a mass murderer more than your own country?! I don’t know where you got these radical ideas from, but it most certainly was not from me! It’s disgraceful the way you speak of the people who defend you and your safety!”

Light stood, hardly able to contain the energy sizzling through his limbs. He heard Ryuk cackling distantly, he saw his own body from an outside view. “God, why are you ignoring how I keep saying I don’t support Kira? Have you gone deaf in your old age, or are you just fucking stupid?” 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Light hadn’t meant to say that last part. 

The room went silent, just for a moment. Then it all seemed to happen in hyper-speed. 

Soichiro lunged at the child, screeching profanities and Light barely managed to dodge, making a dead-sprint towards his room. He blacked out for a moment. By the time he came to, he was curled up in the corner of his room, door locked and a jagged piece of glass clutched to his chest. The door shook as the police chief tried to break it down, all the while screaming bloody murder. The boy cowered further into the wall. Ryuk was suspiciously absent, this only exacerbated Light’s anxieties. It felt like hours before the banging stopped. Light’s thoughts were a jumble of  _ I’m going to die he’s going to kill me god someone help what if he hurts Mom or Sayu because he can’t get in here just make it stop _ .

His movements were sharp and jerky as he pulled down his jeans, the shard still grasped tightly in his shaking hands. The skin on his thighs was marred and ugly, scabbed over cuts littering the surface. He pressed the glass down, hesitating for a moment before dragging it as far as he could handle. The effect was immediate. Endorphins floated through Light’s head. The rush almost made him woozy. Finally, he could breathe.


End file.
